April 11, 2013 at 9:52 pm (Uncategorized)

Today you will dream of paw prints in snow, and wake with your fists unclenched. You desire red fruit for breakfast, and lick the juice that runs across your palms like blood.  AC/DC songs leave your lips in the shower, and travel with you on the tram. You swim in nostalgia and taste the menthol cigarettes of your youth. A passenger joins in the lyrics; it’s under  their breath, but you share secret smiles. You tell a barista his freckles take your breath away and spoon brown sugar into your coffee as he blushes. Cats with mismatched eyes cross your path and you chase them for the scent of feline fur, crooning endearments into their ears you’d never let yourself say to a lover. You tie your hair in a knot secured with cinnamon sticks and wear lipstick so bright strangers stare. You take a green eyed boy into the ocean and lick the salt from his skin afterward. You read your lover’s stories in the bones of his spine, each vertebra telling a tale. You slide Russian authors out of your bookshelf and sit with your legs crossed and the brandy poured, feeling the mellow consonants roll around your tongue like honey. You remember the taste of his fingers, and smile gently. As evening falls, you email people you’ve never met in countries you can’t spell. Under a waxing moon you walk through your house wearing just your skin and its etchings, and don’t flinch as you glide past the windows. You curl up in bed as words flow from your fingertips and pour onto the page in a torrent of black ink. And as you drift off, the sheet tucked around your toes, the snowflakes begin to fall, one by one, onto your eyelids again.

Photo: Rosie Stancer

Photo: Rosie Stancer



  1. Matthew Dalton said,

    Evocative. Beautiful.

    You are a master of the second-person form.

    • inkymouth said,

      Matthew, so lovely to hear from you…thank you, for all your support. Hope the muse is nestled on the corner of your desk, smiling as you write.

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